


Santa Claus and Kisses Galore

by zenonaa



Category: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School
Genre: Other, Penis In Vagina Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:15:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22426924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenonaa/pseuds/zenonaa
Summary: '“But... hang on, Ibuki feels like she read the solution online for a puzzle in a video game, and she didn’t read the explanation,” she says, absentmindedly bending back one of her fingers. “Tomomi-chan’s disguises are amaze-done. That’s why Tomomi-chan usually goes out to get supplies. Who here would get angry about something like visiting an orphanage?”'Ibuki catches her partner sneaking back onto the ship. Dressed as Santa Claus.She digs it.
Relationships: Mioda Ibuki/Ultimate Imposter
Comments: 14
Kudos: 36





	Santa Claus and Kisses Galore

**Author's Note:**

> i called twogami 'tomomi' in this bc i want to give them a nice name :(

Picture the scene: it’s dark. The sea rustles around the docked ship, sounding like furtive whispers, quieter than the footsteps that crept along the deck. And standing in the doorway to the cabin corridor is Ibuki Mioda, dressed in a black, baggy t-shirt that almost reaches her knees, her hands on her hips.

In front of her? Santa Claus.

“Well, well, well,” goes Ibuki, chin jutting out. “What do we have here, guv’nor?”

“I was hoping you would be asleep,” came the admission.

To say the person hadn’t expected to find her awake upon their return would be a lie. They know it. Ibuki knows it. Both know it.

“Nope!” Ibuki chirps, giving herself a tap on her nose. “Ibuki heard Tomomi-chan leaving in the evening, and she stayed up weh-wondering where they went by themselves without telling anyone else.”

Indeed. The person standing opposite Ibuki isn’t actually Santa Claus, but her classmate, Tomomi, formerly the Super High School Level Imposter and currently her datefriend. They rub the back of their neck, wearing a red velvet jacket trimmed with fake white fur. That, along with their matching pants, faux beard, and bobble hat, are where the comparison to Santa Claus stems from.

And the fact it’s almost Christmas? Undeniably, Tomomi is dressed as Santa Claus.

“Hm!” Ibuki cups her chin, scrunching her face into something thoughtful. “I never took Tomomi-chan for the clubbing type! Except when it comes to sandwiches.”

Tomomi’s lips purse. “I wasn’t clubbing.”

Ibuki barks out laughter, making Tomomi wince.

“Nya ha! All according to plan! That means plan,” says Ibuki, smirking, and she gives her chin a stroke, squinting one eye. “Now Ibuki is one step closer to knowing where Tomomi-chan went.”

Her hand lowers and her chest puffs out as she prepares to laugh again, but Tomomi hovers a finger over their lips in a shushing gesture, and her lips seal shut.

“If you’re that curious where I was, I’ll tell you,” says Tomomi, talking in such a low voice that they’re almost mumbling, and when Ibuki inhales, they add, “in my cabin.”

They beckon to her, and Ibuki’s lips peel apart as she pipes up, “Lead the way, Handsome!”

If they had remained outside, the moonlight and distant streetlamps wouldn’t have been able to highlight how pink Tomomi’s face turns, but the interior lights in the corridor betray them as Ibuki steps aside and the two enter. An artificial buzz backs their footsteps through the corridor, and it continues even as the pair stop outside Tomomi’s cabin. Tomomi unlocks the door and opens it.

The cabin walls are salmon pink like the other cabins in the corridor. Ibuki looks around like she hasn’t seen the same layout every time she retires to her own cabin, or even like she hasn’t visited here plenty of times already. By the wooden desk is a stool, and two chairs are stationed at a coffee table, but Ibuki ignores them in favour of skipping over to the princess bed and plonking herself there instead. As her butt sinks into the mattress, she flicks her legs up before letting them swing back down, planting her feet onto the floor.

Tomomi shuts the door and when they turn to her, they narrow their eyes.

“Does anyone else know about this?” asks Tomomi.

“Nope!” Ibuki replies with a grin. “Ibuki kept it all to herself.”

“Good,” says Tomomi. They heave a sigh and seat themselves on the stool, fidgeting their hands. “I know we’re not supposed to be going out. We’re here to restock on food. But...”

Their hands pause. Ibuki cranes her neck, hands on her lap, and doesn’t interrupt. So he elaborates.

“... whilst out shopping, I found out about a local orphanage, and I wanted to do something for them,” they explained. “I dressed up as Santa, spent the evening with the children, gave out some presents and then came straight here. No one knew who I really was.”

A beat of silence passes. She lets out a low whistle.

“Wow. Wow, wow,” goes Ibuki.

Her brow furrows as she counts along her fingers.

Then she says another, “Wow.”

Tomomi keeps quiet. Ibuki studies her fingers for a few more seconds before looking up.

“But... hang on, Ibuki feels like she read the solution online for a puzzle in a video game, and she didn’t read the explanation,” she says, absentmindedly bending back one of her fingers. “Tomomi-chan’s disguises are amaze-done. That’s why Tomomi-chan usually goes out to get supplies. Who here would get angry about something like visiting an orphanage?”

“Kuzuryuu,” replies Tomomi, but they both know he wouldn’t stay mad. A pout puckers Ibuki’s lips.

“Tomomi-chan should have said something!” Ibuki whines, giving her fists a shake. “Ibuki could have gone as an elf, or a reindeer! Ibuki would have loved to go!”

“Exactly!” snaps Tomomi, their curtness making Ibuki do a double-take. 

They immediately cringe and hunch their shoulders. Their spike of emotion snuffs out, replaced by nauseating regret, and they squeeze their kneecaps. Their voice softens.

“I just... wanted to do it by myself,” they say, deflating. “I’m sorry, it’s nothing personal. And I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

“Do you want to be by yourself now?” she asks.

Tomomi stiffens. They look up and see her face is just as serious as her voice.

“... No,” they say. Her frown persists, and they stare down at their lap. “Before now, I never had a family. After spending time with those children, I needed some time alone when I wasn’t busy anymore. I had a lot of emotions re-emerge... here.”

‘Here’ is their heart, where they place their hand.

There’s silence for a bit. The bed creaks as Ibuki stands up. She pads over. When she’s close, they feel her presence like her hands are on their shoulders, and they look up. With a smile more subdued than usual, Ibuki parks herself on their lap, facing them. Like she hit a switch, Tomomi’s eyes widen.

“Ibuki thinks that’s so cool! Ice cool!” says Ibuki. She lays her arms over their shoulders. “When Ibuki was in children’s homes between different foster families, she would have loved to meet Santa... but now is better than never for these sorts of things, huh? But Tomomi-chan doesn’t have to worry about hiding anything from Ibuki, alright? If you told Ibuki you needed to be alone, she’d throw you a party for when you were ready to come back.”

Tomomi nods and when she puts her hand against their cheek, they lean into it. Her lips break into a wide grin and she dips down, pressing her lips against their cheek. More specifically, their fake beard. They move their head back.

“Let me...” starts Tomomi, reaching up to take off the beard, but Ibuki seizes their hand.

“No, no! Keep it on!” she insists.

That prompts Tomomi to give her a weird look, but she captures their lips with her own and pushes into them, and their expression smooths out. Their arms wrap around her and as she slides forward across their lap, they let out a small moan that vibrates in their throat.

Ibuki notices and wiggles, very purposely against Tomomi’s crotch. The material of their pants isn’t thin but they can still feel her through it, though they can’t tell if she has panties on or not. They suck in air and arch their back a bit, prompting her to sit up and crack a smirk.

“En Ee Ways,” she says, emphasising every syllable. “Santa....” 

She leans in to purr into Tomomi’s ear. Tomomi shivers.

“Have you got a present for Ibuki?” she asks, her breath caressing their ear.

Thank goodness that Tomomi has mastered control of their voice. They can mimic anyone. Choose the right inflection, the right accent, depending on who they’re pretending to be.

Even with a cute face like that looming over them.

“... What do you want?” they ask in a hushed tone. Not just so they don’t disturb anyone else on the ship, but so their voice has less chance to quiver and break character.

Ibuki pretends to consider, tilting her head from side-to-side and tapping her chin, before saying, “You, silly!”

She ducks her head and resumes the kiss, going straight for their lips. Her bony frame snuggles against them and she clutches their jacket as she melts into them, deepening the kiss. Bits of fluff from the beard get in the way, but any that enter her mouth, she just shoves out with her tongue and continues kissing without complaint, practically draping herself over them. One of Tomomi’s hands flit up to her cheek to cradle it, and as much as they might want to recline backward, they’re on the stool and don’t fancy falling off and landing on the floor.

Leaning in more, her lips lift, and their hands swerve to cup her behind. Yep, she’s wearing panties. Their hands secure around her, but she still writhes against them, full of energy. Ibuki takes Tomomi’s gloves off, tossing them to the floor, and hitches up her t-shirt, all the while maintaining their kiss. 

With her other hand, she guides one of Tomomi’s hands between her legs, and Tomomi lets her manipulate their digits into the position she wants. Then she brings their hand right up to her panties and her groan warbles in their mouth as she grinds against one of their fingers. 

The stool creaks with Tomomi, who shifts their weight, who holds Ibuki with one arm while they stroke her through her panties. All her fingers curl around them, the set on Tomomi’s shoulder and the set around the back of Tomomi’s hand. Ibuki twitches against Tomomi, offset with their finger’s movements, spluttering out huffs and gulps as she breathes unevenly. She coaxes Tomomi’s finger harder against her, and the pressure tingles delightfully in her crotch. 

And theirs too.

By the time she budges her panties aside to allow their finger to touch her directly, she’s utterly wet, and she slicks their finger in her arousal.

“T-Tomomi-chan feels amazing,” Ibuki gets out, and she plucks Tomomi’s hand off her waist, relocating it to her breast. 

It fits in their palm, small and firm. They knead it gently. Feel her nipple harden. Though she’s wearing panties, she isn’t wearing a bra, and she trembles as their fingers press against her breast. Her thighs clamp around Tomomi’s finger, but rather than let that stop them, they continue rubbing her, and they’re rewarded when she throws her head back with a loud groan. Tomomi jolts and their arm throbs from the instinct to cover her mouth. 

However, Ibuki’s noise quickly dissolves into heavy breathing as she reaches down the waistband of her panties, and she takes something out from there. 

She flourishes an unopened condom wrapper with a toothy smile. Tomomi glances away, face burning.

“We ought to move to the bed then,” says Tomomi, but Ibuki makes no effort to rise off them.

“Actually, Ibuki was wondering if we could do it like this,” she says.

They look around then focus on her again, quirking their brow.

“On a stool?” they say.

“Or a chair,” she says with a shrug. “Ibuki just wants to bounce, bounce, bounce on you!”

And she demonstrates on their lap. Tomomi’s lips contort as they swallow.

“Let’s compromise. The edge of the bed,” says Tomomi, and after Ibuki nods, they adjust their hold on her and stand up, carrying her. 

They take Ibuki to their bed, where they sit down on the edge as agreed. Ibuki slips off their lap and fumbles with their belt. Once unfastened, Tomomi removes their pants for her, and her eyes gleam as Tomomi angles their upper body backward. Ibuki drinks in all of their body, every curve and roll, some of it hidden behind their jacket and other areas exposed for her viewing pleasure, like the expanses of their thighs... among other parts. Her eyes dart to their erect length before meeting Tomomi’s gaze.

“G to the orgeous,” she says, and she opens the condom - as sexy as it would be to rip it open with her teeth, she uses her nails, and she rolls it onto them, leaving a small pocket at the end. 

Then she hops back onto their lap, facing Tomomi as she straddles them, and leans back so she rests against their slightly elevated thighs. She brings her legs forward and bends her knees. Due to her flexibility, Ibuki can lie her legs over their shoulders comfortably. 

“Ready!” she says.

Tomomi has a firm grip on her hips as they align themselves and enter her. Both groan as her muscles clench their length, and with a grin, she begins rocking into them.

With how the pair are positioned, Tomomi has a clear, intimate view of their partner. Her t-shirt covers her breasts and stomach, with the outline of her nipples poking through, but all that doesn’t matter, because Tomomi can see her face. They can see the teeth in Ibuki’s smile, how her hair shudders as she veers from one direction to the next. Colour fills her cheeks, a brilliant, rosy pink, and when Tomomi reaches a hand between her legs to stroke her, she throws her head back with a pleasured whine. 

Ibuki’s lips spasm into different shapes with every change in pitch she lashes the air with. Everything about her stokes the fire growing in Tomomi’s lower stomach, from her moans to her faint smell of hairspray. The smell used to remind them of their disguises, but now they associate it with her, and they like it. Love it. Crave it.

So, so much.

Bouncing against Tomomi, Ibuki coats their length in her arousal, every nerve on fire. Ibuki has control over her pace, her angle, so she lines Tomomi up with a spot in her that sends a wave of prickling energy through her each time they barge into it. She hugs them, with her arms, with her inner walls, half-breathing, half-shouting. 

They grit their teeth and can’t hold back any longer from thrusting into her. As they speed up, Tomomi struggles to keep their fingers massaging her clit. Yet, despite how hard she slams into them, or how she soars away, Tomomi’s length stays in Ibuki. 

Her bounces become more and more desperate, and like the arm on an analogue clock nearing the top, Ibuki reaches her peak. Her muscles pulse with rapid fire, and Tomomi’s quick instincts mean she howls into their sweaty palm. Now Tomomi takes control. They alter their angle, and with a strong hold on her, they jerk their hips more intensely. The pressure in their crotch builds and builds, until it explodes and floods them with chills that leave fire in their wake.

Once the raging storm in them lessens, it leaves behind quietude. Their chest rises and falls. Ibuki quakes getting off them, and she removes the condom, holding it up to the light and marvelling at it. She doesn’t seem quite steady on her feet yet, wobbling a bit, as if they turned her legs to jelly.

“Wow,” she goes, and she collapses onto Tomomi, who catches her. “Not even Ibuki has energy after that...”

“Do you want to stay the night?” asks Tomomi.

Ibuki’s head shoots up like she isn’t exhausted anymore.

“Yup!” Ibuki says. She rolls off them and lies next to them on the bed. “There’s nothing Ibuki wants to do more than spoon her super awesome partner!”

And fifteen minutes later, as Ibuki’s snores fill the room and Tomomi rests their hands over the back of hers as she hugs them from behind, they think there's nothing they want to do more than this either.


End file.
